After the Rain
by meangoose
Summary: The only light in the dark office is the flickering candle. He watches the shadows around him move on their own and doesn't even notice she's there. Perhaps she's the only one who can keep him from blaming himself for a co-worker's death.


I found him hovering over the pale candlelight, his brow buried indolently into his steady palm. An open book lay open before him, but his eyes went beyond the pages of the hardback on the mahogany desk. They were distant, almost as if he were seeing something entirely different than the dark office in which he sat. The solitary sound in the room was the gentle tapping of the rain against the battered windows and the occasional hum of thunder in the distance. Although the worst of the storm had already passed, it would still be a while before the power was returned to the facility. Likewise, it would be a while before the colonel recovered after his own personal "thunderstorm."

It was apparent in his expression, in the way he held himself, he had yet to notice she was in the room. If he had known, he would have at least pretended to be alright. He would have forced a smile and portrayed the usual confidence he exhibited each and every day. My frown deepened as I watched him. Darkness surrounded us both, the only light being the lit candle on his desk. Although the dim radiance penetrated some of that darkness, it seemed he still failed to see what the illumination was destined to show him. Instead of looking around him, he searched within himself. So much so, he couldn't see me standing there. Like always, he didn't notice how close I was to him; not even now.

"Sir," I interrupted his thoughts quietly. I stiffened as he brought his gaze up to meet mine. The pale luminosity reflected in his dark eyes, glistening a thin layer of liquid, which--I swear--appeared to be tears. I immediately regretted ever disturbing him.

"Oh… Lieutenant Hawkeye," he mumbled in slight monotone. "I didn't know you were standing there." There was an inept moment of silence between us as we locked eyes. Sadness still filled his obsidian orbs, and I ached internally from seeing him in such a despondent state. "What is it?"

I fumbled carelessly for the accurate words, thinking of an excuse for being in his office. I should have been home by now, and I was certain the colonel wanted an explanation for my staying so late. While I wondered the same for him, he was higher ranking than I was, and it wasn't my place to ask. Therefore, I answered his question with as much truth as possible.

"Just checking in," I answered. A few moments passed, and our gazes never left each other. "You look pale."

He nodded, his eyes now torn away from me. He stared at the flickering flame of the candle, watching it dance and alter the shadows of the room. "Looks can be deceiving," he said, almost as if his thoughts were speaking for themselves.

Silence permeated into the dismal silhouettes of the office. I hung my head in desperation, staring away from those tormented eyes. The beauty once there had long since slipped away, along with the usual stillness of the East City nights.

"Don't underestimate me," I snapped sternly as I began to make a casual stride towards him. Upon reaching his desk, I pulled up another chair and positioned it next to him. As I situated myself in the seat, I turned to face him in order to read his expressions fully. He turned to me then with a dazzled look on his face, his eyes still glistening with that same, anguished gaze. I then reached over and closed the book in front of him to keep him from diverting his attention away from me. Even so, it was pointless, considering he wasn't likely to have been reading it anyway. He could have always used it as an excuse, though.

"I was reading that," he stated in slight annoyance.

"What were you reading about?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "An alchemist," he defended. "He did some research on homunculi a while back."

"Bull shit," I countered. "I saw that page before I closed it. It was about the early history of Amestris."

His face darkened, and it was apparent he was agitated at the fact I had proved him wrong. Of course, he didn't want to talk either. He wanted to be left alone, and the last thing he wanted to talk about was his personal issues, must less to someone as insignificant as I.

"Delia's death was not your fault," I said in a hushed voice. My tone was calmer this time, more understanding. Just that afternoon, we had attended her funeral. Another life lost to the military, and she--like Moloch--had been placed under Mustang's command. Naturally, he blamed himself for her death, especially since he had been present at the time of the shooting. He had been the one to transport her to the hospital.

"Don't fuck with me," he mumbled, immediately looking away from me. "I let my curiosity get the best of me, and then I involved everyone else in my damned research. All because of my foolishness, two people have died. _Died._ I had enough blood on my hands already, damn it. Why can't the life of someone as unworthy as I be taken instead?"

Anger and distress radiated from his poor-postured frame, bent over the desk in pure frustration. His eyes closed and his head bowed, he formed a fist with his right hand and threw it against the side of the desk in temporary rage. While he mentally punished himself for meaningless self-accusations, I only watched him smother himself with his own despair, torturing himself with anxiety and pain. I empathized with him, for seeing him in such a state tore through my heart like a blade through flesh; and the blood loss was getting to my head.

"I'm no good, Riza." His voice was hardly audible, but I still placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. I felt then how tense his muscles had become. "I'm no good… Just stay away from me, or I'll end up killing you, too."

That testimonial angered me in a way. I still felt that pang of sympathy, but a part of me felt like backhanding him for being so blind for so long. "Lying isn't good, you know," I scolded him lightly. "You can't be perfect, so you're always going to make mistakes. And you're not God, so you can't fix the world by yourself. And if I ever hear you say that last statement ever again, I think I might hit you. Don't you understand? Seeing you like this, blaming yourself for things you couldn't control; _that_ is what kills me, Colonel."

I felt a firm grip on my hand then, and I cast my gaze downwards to see his hand placed upon mine, holding it tightly as he continued to stare away from me. I was sure he was avoiding eye contact because he didn't want me to read his facial expressions.

"Go home, Lieutenant," he said softly after a brief moment of silence. "It's getting late."

The rain was calming down by then, and I could no longer hear the thunder in the distance. As I stood up, the lights in the room began to flicker before finally coming on for good. I looked back at him and sent him a warm smile. "When everything around you is darkness--and the only light you have is a dim candlelight--sometimes, all you have to do is wait. The shadows will fade away soon enough."

With that ending note, I left him in his office to sort out his thoughts after the rain.


End file.
